A time and place
by a. loquita
Summary: Search and Rescue tag. Sam's emotions regarding the way things were handled by Woolsey and the IOA. S/J. Warning: spoilers for SGA Search and Rescue


**A Time and Place**

"I'm here to inform you that, effective immediately, you are being removed from command."

Sam stares at him, stunned that this would happen right now, right here. It was certainly something she considered could happen following exhaustive discussions that would surely be part of her "review." But this?

There are hundreds of things she needs to say and she wants to ask, but for some odd reason, "Who-who's replacing me?" is what stumbles out first.

Woolsey says, "As a matter of fact, I am."

Whatever it is that she's about to say next isn't going to be… nice, among other things. So, Sam turns on her heel and exits the gate room. The room where she left to go out on mission after mission for 10 years saving Earth from enemy after enemy. Now she exits that very same room apparently lacking a skill set deemed necessary to keep people safe. Ironic.

She doesn't know where she is going. And yet, it makes perfect sense that she ends up here, her former lab now empty. Entering it, she doesn't turn the lights on. This place provided solace to her so many times when it seemed the world was falling apart around her, and a few times when it actually was.

She isn't going to cry. She absolutely isn't. Somehow that would add to the victory of the bureaucrats over common sense. Instead, she sinks onto a stool in the dark, and drops her bags on the floor near her feet.

She thinks of Teyla and her new baby. Of how the new mother will be facing a struggle, her priorities shifting, and the team dynamic will have to do some adjusting too.

She thinks of Rodney, who will be upset when he learns the baby's name. Sam was coming from the infirmary when she saw him in the hall and teased him, not having the heart to break the news herself. Rodney is still not quite himself ever since Katie transferred back to Earth. A sense of connection to his teammates is important right now and Sam would have made sure that Teyla had a long talk with him.

She thinks of John and Ronon, who both were stuck deep in that rubble injured, and yet still managed to save the day. She can only imagine the kinds of things they said to each other down there. She's been in a similar situation many times: an ice planet, a sinking Goa'uld ship, an empty Prometheus, an out-of-phase room the Prior couldn't see. She's been there and she knows the kinds of things you say to a teammate, a friend, when you or he is about to die.

Woolsey has no idea. They— John, Ronon, Rodney, Teyla, Jennifer, everyone living in that city— they all deserve better. Sam wasn't even given the chance to say a proper goodbye.

She wipes the tears from her cheeks, not realizing until this moment that somewhere along the line she started to cry, despite her best intentions not too.

The phone rings and it startles her. Sam hadn't even reported to Landry yet, but he obviously would have been informed by someone the moment she stepped through the gate. Sam figures he could guess where she'd go to drop off her bags— either here or Daniel's lab. She wonders which place he tried first.

"Carter," she answers, cringing at the fact her voice betrays that she's been crying.

"They told you already?"

It wasn't Landry. Sam closes her eyes.

Jack would call here first before trying Daniel's because he knows. She wonders how long he knew about the decision. She wonders if he thought he should have been the one to tell her.

"Jack," she breathes into the phone. She isn't entirely sure she is ready to have this conversation, whatever it is that they are about to say to one another. She needed a few more minutes to pull herself together before she faced anyone, but especially him.

"You OK?" he asks.

What a silly question. "Sure. Fine."

"Ah."

Jack O'Neill, the man of infinite expression in only one syllable. It almost makes Sam smile. Almost.

He isn't sure what to say to her, how to comfort. At the same time he's fighting against the urge to be insanely happy that she's home. Jack seems to sense that last part should wait until she is ready, until she is happy too.

Sam says, "I was going to leave sometime in the next year anyway."

"I know." Of course he does. They've done plenty of talking and they have plans that include his retirement and her coming back from Atlantis.

"It's just…" The anger boils again, twisting into a tight ball in her gut. "They robbed me of doing it in my own time, on my own terms."

That's the heart of it, the slap in the face. This wasn't how she wanted to do this. Not for her, not for her team on Atlantis. This wasn't the right way and they— the IOA, Woolsey, the rest of the universe— could never understand that.

They can't understand what it means to risk never making it home again to the man you love. But you do what you do because it has to be done, lives depend on you, because the man you love understands sacrifice and he's done it too, because he'd think less of you if you ever changed. Just because.

"It's not because you did something wrong, Carter," he says gently. Just because.

"Really?" She sounds bitter, old, tired, even to her own ears.

"I'm on my way out there." Jack apparently doesn't want to have this conversation either, at least not via phone. "Go meet with Landry and I'll see you tonight."

Sam wants to tell him not to come but that would be silly. Of course she wants to see him. She just doesn't want to see the look in his eyes. She's never been fired from anything in her life. She doesn't let people down, especially him.

She's home, not just for a visit but permanently. It was something she was looking forward to, one day. Now if she's happy about it, it feels wrong. She should have been given the chance to do this in a way that allowed her to come through the gate and her first feeling was happiness to be home, not shock and bitter anger at the IOA. She should feel glad that her time away from Jack is now over, excited that the plans that have been on hold can now be acted upon, but she's not feeling those things she should in this moment. The IOA has taken away more than just her job.

"Damn them," Sam curses aloud.

"I hear ya," Jack quips.

She's home and she'll be in Jack's company tonight and any happiness in that is associated with guilt and anger. It will be for a while, she's sure of it. She has shifting priorities ahead, in a way that makes her feel that she and Teyla are not all that different.

She needs to get off the phone, go report in and debrief, go about her duties even despite all of this. She needs to be fully informed of Tok'ra situation and prepare for a mission.

She needs to see her friends. She wants to hear news from Teal'c about Ry'ac and Bra'tac. To see if Daniel finally got that translation done that he was so confused about according to his last letter. Listen to the various scrapes Vala has gotten herself into and out of since they last talked. Hear about Cam's new girlfriend, who happens to be a lawyer in town, and so there must be some sort of interesting story behind how they met.

Sam knows she's got people that are counting on her still. She needs to not wallow in this. But before she pushes it aside, she's got one more thing that needs to be said.

"I swear to God, Jack, if he gets someone killed…" There's a heavy silence between them for a beat.

"We'll go kick his ass together. Him, and the IOA."

She hears the grit in his tone. They are different in so many ways that people often believe her and Jack to be an odd match. But in the most fundamental way, they are exactly the same.

She reminds him dryly, "I can kick their asses all on my own, General."

"Or I can stand down and let you have a go. I'm fine with that too."

Jack's response makes her smile. Not enough to reach her eyes or her heart, but it's a start.

She will see Jack tonight. She will have her friends here at the SGC surrounding her once again. There is work to be done. But, she realizes that no change in required skill set will change the fact that she will never stop feeling responsible for those she commanded on Atlantis. They have become part of her tight circle, and she will worry about them, wonder about them, and defend them if it comes to it.

"Still, it's nice to know you'd be there," she says into the phone, "just in case."


End file.
